


A Feast of All Souls

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Five Times God!Castiel Felt Something [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Gluttony</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Feast of All Souls

Castiel remembered what it had been like to be a mere angel, powerful in his own right yet not quite powerful enough. He’d stood at the doors to Purgatory, blood smeared across the wall behind him, carefully painted there with a patient and steady hand.

After switching the blood he needed for dog’s blood to hand off to Crowley and Raphael, he’d figured that he’d had enough time to take his time with the task at hand. He’d felt the floor shaking beneath his feet, ground quaking with an ominous roar reminiscent of a thousand hellhounds all baying and growling for rapid attention.

The ground started shaking even more, splitting apart before his feet, spanning the room and pulling it apart, until a great yawning chasm appeared before him. He did not quail, as he knew what was required of him now. Dean would not help him, and Sam would never have helped him anyway. Sam did not share the bond that Dean had with Castiel and even that hadn’t counted for much on Dean’s part when Castiel had really needed him.

Even though Castiel didn’t go to Dean for help, he’d known by the look in Dean’s eyes that the Winchester would not have helped anyway. He’d become too engrossed in his own concerns over Sam’s missing soul and the alpha monsters, even the Mother of All to bother with him, his friend. That had hurt, leading Castiel on a lonely path that he couldn’t turn back from now.

He waited, until the first blackened, twisted soul shone from the chasm arcing up and into him, the first of many, of thousands. He sucked them into himself, tamping them down flat with practised ease. That ease came with years of practice of squashing his own celestial self as big as the Chrysler building into Jimmy’s small and slender frame.

He became greedy for more and more souls, sucking them back like a thirsty man needed his last shot of vodka, glutting on souls and still sucking more back. Finally, the last soul had been consumed and there were no more. Castiel felt that last wash of extreme disappointment that it was over, before the power of fifty thousand souls hit him and he lost himself to the grandeur of the power he now held within himself.


End file.
